A Very Bad Thing Indeed by lash_larue (R)
Fandom: HARRY POTTER
Pairing: Aunt Marge/Dolores Umbridge, Millicent Bulstrode/Moaning Myrtle
Length: 14,300
Author on LJ: lash_larue
Author Website: Lash's master list of fics (very incomplete)
Why this must be read:
Why? Because the Marge/Dolores pairing makes so much sense. No, really. Lash does a fantastic job of characterizing these two scary ladies, these 'strong women' with their appetites and disturbingly similar obsessions with bloodlines and good breeding. What's wonderful is the blend of comedy and creepiness, the sly comparisons and smug self-deceptions and brisk coldbloodedness. Lash's comic timing is a delight, and the way she nails Marjorie Dursley's voice and Dolores' unctuous and insecure self-importance will make you chuckle and recoil simultaneously. There's also a running cameo by the drollest bulldog ever.
Unfolding parallel to the mutual seduction of Marge and Dolores is the more sympathetic tale of Millicent and Myrtle, one a marginalized Slytherin and one a friendless ghost. They bond over their outcast status and gradually learn how to be objects of desire, engaging in a risky and risqué courtship conducted in prefects' baths and deserted classrooms. There's humor here, too, but the overall tone is poignant and shyly romantic. The two stories don't touch until the very end when, in an unfortunate encounter between Umbridge and Millicent, Lash illustrates how innocence can be corrupted by bad timing, fear of authority, and manipulative sympathy. A moment's calculated mercy, the false and fleeting impression that she's appreciated, trusted, taken into confidence, can tempt a young woman into serving the devil. Millicent's head is turned; she takes the bribe out of self-protection, and it puts her squarely on the wrong side.
A criss-cross of satire, sweetness, and moral surprise, this fic is first and foremost a highly entertaining read.
~~*~~
"Well I must say that I find your attitude on this most refreshing, Marge. Most of the family members I speak with are more concerned with their sainted offspring’s self esteem than in their learning to be responsible citizens," Dolores told her.
"Self esteem! Poppycock!" spat Marge. "Self esteem isn’t a birthright; it’s something you earn. There’s nothing special about the mass of those unruly youngsters, and it does them no favors to let them think that there is, I say. Doesn’t prepare them properly for life. No one is going to pay good wages to some ignorant lout just because he has a high opinion of himself."
"I couldn’t agree more," Dolores said fervently.
"Why don’t you pour us another brandy then, Dolores, while I clear this away and bring in the trifle? Nothing like a spot of brandy with a nice trifle, I always say."
"Delighted," Dolores replied. She poured two Marjorie sized portions and settled back in her seat. "I certainly didn’t expect to meet someone with such enlightened attitudes here," Dolores thought, "and from a Muggle, at that. I wonder if perhaps she’s a squib from some pureblood line or other? I shall check into that." "Nice doggie," she said experimentally.
Ripper passed gas.
Dolores was fanning the air with her napkin when Marge returned with the trifle.
"Sorry about that, he does that now and again, almost like having a husband," she commented.
"Think nothing of it," Dolores managed to say without gagging, "and are you married, then?"
"Me? Certainly not, I’ve not much use for men, frankly. They’re always trying to open doors and jars for you. I can open my own doors and jars without help, thank you. I’ve a very firm grip, you see," and she demonstrated that by closing her admittedly powerful looking hand into a tight fist. "I’m all woman, mind, but I’m no shrinking violet."
"Indeed not," thought Dolores as she stared at Marjorie’s strong hand.
A Very Bad Thing Indeed
Pairing: Aunt Marge/Dolores Umbridge, Millicent Bulstrode/Moaning Myrtle
Length: 14,300
Author on LJ: lash_larue
Author Website: Lash's master list of fics (very incomplete)
Why this must be read:
Why? Because the Marge/Dolores pairing makes so much sense. No, really. Lash does a fantastic job of characterizing these two scary ladies, these 'strong women' with their appetites and disturbingly similar obsessions with bloodlines and good breeding. What's wonderful is the blend of comedy and creepiness, the sly comparisons and smug self-deceptions and brisk coldbloodedness. Lash's comic timing is a delight, and the way she nails Marjorie Dursley's voice and Dolores' unctuous and insecure self-importance will make you chuckle and recoil simultaneously. There's also a running cameo by the drollest bulldog ever.
Unfolding parallel to the mutual seduction of Marge and Dolores is the more sympathetic tale of Millicent and Myrtle, one a marginalized Slytherin and one a friendless ghost. They bond over their outcast status and gradually learn how to be objects of desire, engaging in a risky and risqué courtship conducted in prefects' baths and deserted classrooms. There's humor here, too, but the overall tone is poignant and shyly romantic. The two stories don't touch until the very end when, in an unfortunate encounter between Umbridge and Millicent, Lash illustrates how innocence can be corrupted by bad timing, fear of authority, and manipulative sympathy. A moment's calculated mercy, the false and fleeting impression that she's appreciated, trusted, taken into confidence, can tempt a young woman into serving the devil. Millicent's head is turned; she takes the bribe out of self-protection, and it puts her squarely on the wrong side.
A criss-cross of satire, sweetness, and moral surprise, this fic is first and foremost a highly entertaining read.
~~*~~
"Well I must say that I find your attitude on this most refreshing, Marge. Most of the family members I speak with are more concerned with their sainted offspring’s self esteem than in their learning to be responsible citizens," Dolores told her.
"Self esteem! Poppycock!" spat Marge. "Self esteem isn’t a birthright; it’s something you earn. There’s nothing special about the mass of those unruly youngsters, and it does them no favors to let them think that there is, I say. Doesn’t prepare them properly for life. No one is going to pay good wages to some ignorant lout just because he has a high opinion of himself."
"I couldn’t agree more," Dolores said fervently.
"Why don’t you pour us another brandy then, Dolores, while I clear this away and bring in the trifle? Nothing like a spot of brandy with a nice trifle, I always say."
"Delighted," Dolores replied. She poured two Marjorie sized portions and settled back in her seat. "I certainly didn’t expect to meet someone with such enlightened attitudes here," Dolores thought, "and from a Muggle, at that. I wonder if perhaps she’s a squib from some pureblood line or other? I shall check into that." "Nice doggie," she said experimentally.
Ripper passed gas.
Dolores was fanning the air with her napkin when Marge returned with the trifle.
"Sorry about that, he does that now and again, almost like having a husband," she commented.
"Think nothing of it," Dolores managed to say without gagging, "and are you married, then?"
"Me? Certainly not, I’ve not much use for men, frankly. They’re always trying to open doors and jars for you. I can open my own doors and jars without help, thank you. I’ve a very firm grip, you see," and she demonstrated that by closing her admittedly powerful looking hand into a tight fist. "I’m all woman, mind, but I’m no shrinking violet."
"Indeed not," thought Dolores as she stared at Marjorie’s strong hand.
A Very Bad Thing Indeed